A noble gentleman. What succour brings he?
La Gloire. A snack! a bare snack, father; no more. We scudded round the point of land, under the coast, unperceived by the enemy's fleet, and freighted with a good three days' provender: but the sea, that seems ruled by the English—marry, I think they'll always be masters of it, for my part—stuck the point of a rock through the bottom of our vessel, almost filled it with water, and, after tugging hard for our lives, we found the provision so spoiled, and pickled, that our larder is reduced to a luncheon. Every man may have a meal, and there's an end;—to-morrow comes famine again.
2 Cit. N'importe; we are happy to-day; c'est assez pour un François.
La Gloire. [Aside, to Eustache.] But, father, cheer up! Mum! If, after the distribution, an odd sly barrel of mine—you take me—rammed down with good powdered beef, that will stand the working of half a dozen pair of jaws for a month, should be found in an odd corner of my father's house, why—hum!
Eust. Base cur! insult me!—But I pardon thee;
Thou dost mean kindly. Know thy father better.
Though these be sorry knaves, I scorn to wrong them
I love my country, boy. Ungraced by fortune,
I dare aspire to the proud name of patriot.